It's A Witch Thing
by Covinskey
Summary: When Sam and Dean find a case in a small town of New York, they meet a girl who might be more than she appears to be. Post-season nine AU
1. Chapter 1

p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"strongspan style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"A/N This is my first OFC! I've set this in an au after season nine, in which Dean has dealt with the Mark of Cain and Cas's grace is /span/strong/p  
>hr   
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;" p  
>p id="docs-internal-guid-62474d79-2a34-3911-441a-9aeac716e18a" dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Mallory hated the classroom and everyone in it, and the feeling was mutual.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Well, to say mutual might have been an exaggeration. It had been three months, and after the first hour and a half of cold flat rejection of all types of friendship, even the most chipper lets-be-friends kids had more or less left her alone. At this point, most people had stopped noticing her, but now she had a presentation on the cold war to deliver, and 7 minutes in which to emblazon herself on the minds of each and every peer desperate to graduate.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Mallory spoke bluntly, not wasting words. She had her hands in her pockets and was leaning against the blackboard. Damnit, she wasn't supposed to do that! Quickly pushing herself forward, she changed the slide and resumed speaking.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Once she finished, the class applauded politely, and she was forgotten once again. Simple as that.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Later that day, as she walked home, Mr. Landon called out to her from where he was washing his car. "Aren't you pretty today, sweetie?"span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Mr. Albert Landon was 72 with hearing and memory problems, and completely innocent. Mallory almost always stopped to chat with him on her way home, although it was mostly because Erica insisted on it.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Leaning on the picket fence, Mallory responded in a raised voice, "Thank you, Mr. Landon."span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""Must charm all the boys at school in that getup."span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""No, Mr. Landon." Because Mallory was wearing a blue blouse and knee-length skirt with her wispy hair tied in a ponytail, and the boys were charmed by tank tops and short shorts and bleached blondes.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""You got a boyfriend yet?"span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""No, Mr. Landon."span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""Well how're you s'posed to get married then?"span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""I'm not going to, Mr. Landon."span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Mr. Landon pulled a face. "You're gonna get married. Pretty girl like you? I'd bet on it."span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Mallory forced a smile. She'd had this conversation with him at least twice this week, and it didn't get better each time she repeated it. "We'll see, Mr. Landon," she said, "I have to go now. Erica is waiting for me."span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""Of course, sweetheart. See you soon."span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""Goodbye."span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Mallory continued on her way, adjusting her wispy, reddish-blonde ponytail. Although she didn't see it, Mr. Landon's wrinkled face grew pale when he saw the dark pentagram tattoo on the back of her neck.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;" p  
>hr   
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"The unavoidable bang of the screen door alerted the entire house to her presence, but Mallory still shouted, "Erica, I'm home!"span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"It was a household thing, announcing you were home. Erica, who was 48 and a determined good samaritan, liked it when Mallory participated in household things. And when Erica was happy, everyone was happy. span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"When Erica wasn't happy, everyone was extremely uncomfortable.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""Hi, sweetie," she said, bustling down the stairs excitedly, "How was school?"span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""Good," lied Mallory.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""Well, I'm glad. Oh, by the way, Davy and I are going out tonight."span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""That's good," said Mallory, feigning interest. span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""He's going there straight after work, there's a function down at the fire hall."span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Dave worked as an electrician outside of town. Erica raised a long and steady stream of foster kids until they turned 18. Mallory was the last, a 'rescue puppy' as Erica had quickly regretted joking.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""Are you having dinner there or am I on my own?" Mallory asked. It was an innocent question, but one she regretted almost instantly.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Erica hugged her tightly. "If you're feeling like that I can stay," she murmured.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Mallory patted her awkwardly on the back. "You should go," she responded sincerely, "I'm fine, really."span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""Are you sure?"span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Fighting back an eye roll, Mallory answered, "Yes."span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Erica let her go and patted her cheek in a moment of awkwardness. "You're such a good kid, you know?"span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""Yes, Erica. Can I go to my room now? I have homework."span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""Of course, sweetie," Erica promised, "Do you want me to make dinner?"span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Mallory, who was already halfway up the stairs replied, "No. I can make myself a grilled cheese sandwich."span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""Okay, then."span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"But Mallory was in her room at that point, the door closed neatly behind her. It was a sickening pink, with three beds with matching pink bedspreads and girly books on the bookshelf. This used to be the girls room, and even though Mallory was the only kid in the house, all three beds were still there, neatly made.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Keeping your bed neatly made was a household thing, but Erica didn't check on a regular basis. Even at her most cynical, Mallory had to admit Erica's respect for privacy was great. Her other guardian's blatant disrespect and their kids pestering nosiness was part of the reason her file had a footlong warning list.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Which is why it was great Erica had welcomed her with open arms, willing to put her 'troubled' past behind her and lead her to a bright future.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"At least, that's was the cross-stitch in the kitchen said.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"But Mallory crawled underneath the third bed, the one that had been unused for so long it was caked in dust and began pulling out boxes and bottles. She had no intention of moving forward. Her past wasn't troubled. span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"She pulled out an enormous book. Huh, she thought, glancing at one of the bottles, she was almost out of lamb's blood. No matter. She spread her ceremonial mat and began thumbing through the book.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;" p  
>hr   
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Mr. Landon was sitting at his kitchen table, rubbing his sore knee. What had that doctor said about arthritis? Something absurd. What were they thinking these days anyway? span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"He smacked his knee in frustration.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"And his entire lower leg fell to the floor, pooling blood. His foot popped off at the ankle and his toes rolled under the fridge. span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Mr. Landon gasped in shock more than pain. The smell rose up like a wall, making him gag.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"But even as he reached towards his missing appendage, beyond certain that this was just a dream, a bad dream, his right arm fell off at the shoulder, breaking apart at the joins as it splashed into the bloody pool. span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;""Jenny!" he managed to yell, falling forward.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"Jenny was the name of the girl his daughter had hired to take care of him in his old age. Quite naturally, he was more than capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much.span/p  
>p dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.15; margin-top: 0pt; margin-bottom: 10pt;"span style="font-size: 15px; font-family: Arial; color: #000000; background-color: transparent; font-weight: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline;"And even so, it was too late. Jenny had gone home for the day, and his head was rolling towards the door.span/p 


	2. Chapter 2

"Wake up."

The order was punctuated by a pillow tossed squarely into Dean's stomach. He groaned, sitting up. "What?!"

Sam was already fully dressed. "I got a case," he said, packing up the duffel bag, "Come on, I'll tell you in the car."

Dean groaned and rolled over. Sam threw another pillow at him. "Jesus Christ, Sam!" he thundered, "What the hell?"

Sam grinned. "You can catch up on the sleep you lost with the Mark later, Dean," he joked referring to the Mark of Cain that Dean had so recently got rid of. "R and R's over, we've got stuff to do."

Dean sat upright, rubbing his eyes. "What are you so happy about?"

Sam shrugged. "I dunno. You're back, Metatron's in angel jail, Cas's got his mojo. Life's good."

"And you're what, happy to be hunting again?"

Another shrug. "Come on. It's in New York. We've got a long drive."

Dean sighed, and they checked out of the room.

* * *

><p>Several hours and a new motel later, the Winchesters had arrived in the small, unnoteworthy town of Brooksville, New York. They suited up and grabbed their fake ID's. By the time they got to the house, school had let out and there was a small crowd around the house in question.<p>

Their suits, badges, and height all had the crowd darting out of their way. The sheriff was already there, a ruffled-looking man with an impressive grey mustache, only matched by his equally impressive eyebrows.

The house itself was small, well-kept, and yellow. A thoroughly washed 57 Cadillac was in the drive. The sheriff turned to greet the Winchesters.

"Boy, I'm glad you're here," he said, relief etched on his face. "This is a weird one. Sheriff Bradley Paulson," he added, shaking their hands.

Dean introduced their aliases. "I'm Agent Dean Young, this here's my partner, Agent Sam Johnson. What have you got so far."

"Diddly squat," Paulson grunts, leading them towards the house, promptly countering that by adding, "The victim is Albert Landon, 72. His caretaker, Jenny Carter found him this morning. Poor girl."

"Where is she?" asked Sam, as Paulson opened the door.

"Hospital, for the shock."

He opened the door. The entryway was polished and clean, with the exception of a bloody trail leading from the kitchen. A detective walked by, grimacing at the Sheriff. The Winchesters both walked forward into the kitchen.

The sharp metallic smell of blood was the first thing they noticed. The source was a small lake by the kitchen table. Laying in it was a pile of limbs, a torso, and a vividly scarlet shirt and shorts.

Had the Winchesters lived quiet lives, they both might have been outside, gasping for air. As it was, Sam merely cringed faintly and Dean didn't react at all.

"You guys have any clue what caused this?" he asked, looking over the body, which upon inspection contained the neatly dissembled remains of a single man.

"Not a single idea," sighed Paulson, "There's no real blood spatter, no sign of a blade, but so much blood pooling on the ground. I'm having our coroner test it to see if he was killed somewhere else."

"Anything missing from the body?" asked Dean.

"No, no, he's all there. His head was at the door, the coroner already took it."

"Thanks," said Sam, "You mind if we take a look around?"

"Yeah," he answered, before adding, "You guys gonna deal with the folks out there? We don't get many murders up here, it'd mean a lot for them to know that the FBI's looking into this."

"We have a job to do," Dean said shortly, "You go handhold if you've got to. We have a killer to catch."

Clearly thrown, Paulson nodded and retreated. Dean turned to Sam. "What do you think?"

"Not a vampire. Wrong time for a werewolf."

"I've never heard of a ghost or demon doing anything like this," Dean muttered, looking at the mess.

Sam started looking around, in the backs of cupboards, under the table, and finally, in the crack beside the fridge, he found it.

"Hex bag," he announced.

"Dammit." Dean made a tight-lipped face. "I hate witches."

"I know," sighed Sam, putting the hex bag in his jacket pocket, "I know."

* * *

><p>By the time they reached the outside world the crowd had swelled, despite Sheriff Paulson's attempts to get some of them to leave.<p>

"Dean," Sam started, but Dean was way ahead of him.

"I know, Sam, I know." He raised his voice, "People! Clear out! We've got a job to do."

Most of them registered the fancy suit and made the leap. Slowly but surely, they trickled away. One of the last stragglers was a woman in her fourties or fifties, weeping openly. She dragged a sombre teenager with her as she approached the tape.

"I'm so sorry, Agents," she said in a surprisingly clear voice, "But I'm a dear friend of Mr. Landon, we spoke almost daily, and Mallory talked to him just last night."

"Really?" asked Dean with a slightly-too-interested tone. He turned to the girl, who was looking critically at him and Sam, "What'd you guys talk about?"

She shrugged. "The same stuff we'd normally talk about. I dunno. Who'd you guys say you are again?"

"Agent Dean Young, Agent Sam Johnson," said Dean, gesturing to himself, then Sam. What'd you and the vic normally talk about?"

"He told me to get married," she answered darkly, "Asked me if I had a boyfriend. Said I looked pretty that day."

"And did he seem normal to you?"

"As normal as he ever was."

At their matching looks of confusion, the woman added, "Mr. Landon had memory problems."

"Now did he have any enemies, Mrs…?"

"Burman, Erica Burman," she responded, before answering, "Nobody around here has enemies, Agent. Least of all Mr. Landon. Everyone loved him."

Dean looked at Mallory, who took the cue to nod and agree, "Everyone."

"Well, thank you for your time," said Sam, pulling a card out of his pocket and offering it to Erica, "If you think of anything, no matter how unimportant, call us. We're staying at the Red Pine motel."

"The Red Pine?" demanded Erica, shocked, "You'd have to be desperate to stay there. There's all sorts of (she glanced at Mallory) unsavory types there, if you understand my meaning."

Sam and Dean glanced at each other. They had hunted every demon in the book, Lucifer himself, monsters that would keep normal people up at night and the angels of Heaven and won. They didn't have to worry about a couple drug dealers and hookers.

But before they could phrase any of that in a way that sounded less insane to civilians, Erica had spoken again, "You could stay with us! It's just me and Mallory, in our big old house. I was thinking of converting it to a bed and breakfast, even."

"Ma'am, we'd hate to impose on your hospitality," Sam said with a warm smile.

"If Piggy's at the front desk you might want to barricade your doors," Mallory warned. When Erica gave her a scandalised look, she said defensively, "I stayed there before they caught me."

"I have a room with a couple beds free," Erica said, as if to sweeten the pot, "Or a queen, if you're-"

"We're not a couple," Sam said patiently, while Dean rolled his eyes in irritation. Obviously this wasn't the first time someone had made this assumption.

"Sorry," Erica said, blushing profusely.

"Let's leave them alone, Erica," said Mallory, touching her elbow, "I'm sure they have work to do."

"Actually, we'll take you up on that offer," said Dean with a smile.

"Dean!" hissed Sam, before looking at Erica and Mallory, "Uh, can you give us a minute?"

They took a couple steps towards the Impala. "Dude, what the hell?"

Dean leaned close in an attempt to be intimidating. It was, however, kind of hard to intimidate a guy 6'4" tall. "Have you met the people here?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So, I don't think that a witch could just live here and be a hermit. People know her."

"I don't see how this helps us find her," Sam protested.

"Oh, come on, Sammy. That woman is the town gossip. She knows everything about everyone. She knows who the witch is, even if she doesn't know she knows."

They both looked at the pair. Erica had started dabbing her eyes with a kleenex, watching the house. Mallory was looking at them though, her eyes narrowed.

"Something seem off about the kid to you?" Sam asked.

"Teenagers," was all Dean had to offer, "They're moody little assholes."

They returned, and Sam smiled before saying, "If you're sure, we'd love to stay."


End file.
